


My Wandering Spirit (Must No Further Soar)

by seekrest



Series: Twelve Days of Terror: A Whumptober Collection [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, College Student Peter Parker, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Peter Parker, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Spider-Man: Far From Home, Suicidal Thoughts, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Underage Drinking, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 07:53:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20926733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest
Summary: “Are you okay?”Peter shakes his head, pushing past the crowd as someone calls out after him.Peter felt… wrong. But he couldn’t figure out why. Then again, Peter thought as he stumbled down the hallway, he’d been feeling wrong all night.It had been his roommate’s suggestion for them to go to the party, something to take Peter’s mind off things - arguing that maybe for once, he could just let loose.Loose.That was a good description for how Peter felt.





	My Wandering Spirit (Must No Further Soar)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: Laced Drink / Moonlight 
> 
> Second prompt taken from [ hailingstar’s Halloween prompts! ](https://hailing-stars.tumblr.com/post/187781459998/13-nights-of-halloween)

“Are you okay?”

Peter shakes his head, pushing past the crowd as someone calls out after him.

Peter felt… wrong. But he couldn’t figure out why. Then again, Peter thought as he stumbled down the hallway, he’d been feeling _ wrong _ all night.

It had been his roommate’s suggestion for them to go to the party, something to take Peter’s mind off things. Peter had argued that alcohol didn’t do much to him anyway - without sharing the real reason why - but Marcus argued back that maybe for once, he could just let loose.

Loose. 

That was a good description for how he felt.

Peter had felt so tightly wound for the past three days, three months… three years. Junior year had hit him hard - taking classes that were more difficult than what he’d gotten used to, the pressure of the future and what the hell he was supposed to do looming in front of him. He’d adjusted to college as well as he could - as well as anyone did after the Blip - but it all suddenly felt too much for Peter, like he was suffocating anytime he breathed. 

That combined with whatever weird shit was happening with him and Michelle made Peter feel like he was spinning on a wheel he couldn’t get off from.

It was his fault - Michelle’s arguments that he wasn’t talking to her weren’t wrong, that she couldn’t read his mind - couldn’t try to be there for him if he didn’t let her in. 

He loved Michelle, as much as any twenty-year old could. And he was certain that she loved him. But she was right. 

Peter wasn’t talking to her. He wasn’t talking to anyone.

As the music blared in his ears, Peter pushing past more and more people - moving upward, away from the noise - he couldn’t figure out how to talk to anyone about what he was feeling when he couldn’t figure it out for himself.

Peter felt… lost. And the more he thought about it, the more he started to panic. 

The world had already changed so much in the past few years - Peter coming back from the dead, something he didn’t even really remember - Happy and May getting together, Peter dating Michelle, all the shit that had gone down with Beck. 

Peter hadn’t ever been more thankful that he had the might of SI behind him, the press release that refuted Beck’s claims that made Spider-Man’s identity now - almost three years later - a conspiracy theory on the internet. 

It helped that Peter chose to go to school in the city, feeling the move to MIT would’ve been just a change too far. But for all the happy things in Peter’s life, all the things he was objectively grateful for - the pressure and the anxiety and the panic still crawled all over his skin, causing him to push everyone around him away. 

Peter finally made it to the roof, gasping as he tried to breathe. He felt wrong, he felt wrong, he couldn’t understand why he felt so wrong - a small voice in the back of his head that for as wrong and as desperate as he was feeling, the push to move wasn’t something that was solely coming from his mind. 

His mind, he couldn’t trust it - Peter felt like he was going to suffocate under the weight of his own inadequacy. He hadn’t slept well since the Blip and this semester - combined with everything else - had just made it worse. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. Peter just wanted to let go, let it all go…

A dark thought comes to mind, creeping in before he can stop it.

_ Let go. _

Peter blinks, involuntarily taking a step forward on the rooftop - the moon shining so brightly on him, it felt unreal - unnatural. Peter could never see the stars in the city and yet the moonlight was so bright and hot on Peter’s skin that he felt like he was on fire. 

He wanted it to stop, wanted everything to stop - just wanted to press pause on his life, give him time to sleep, to _ rest _.

_ Let go. _

Peter takes another step forward, feeling as if he was both moving in slow motion and speeding towards the edge - though how long it’s been since he’s been on the roof doesn’t register for him. 

Distantly, he thinks of Tony and what he would say if he saw him now, creeping forward to the edge of a rooftop, the dark connotations of what that would mean as he glanced to the watch he’d given him. 

Some part of Peter registers that it was likely going crazy for how fast his heart was beating, knowing he’d have to explain it to Banner later.

But the sinister voice in the back of his mind gets louder, pushing him - telling him that this was the answer he was searching for, the release he had been begging for. 

_ Let go. _

Peter knows - on some level - that this isn’t what he wants, but there’s something else pulling him, _ pushing _ him to keep going until before Peter knows it, he’s on the roof’s edge - teetering dangerously over it, as if a slight breeze could push him over and make Peter forget everything else in his life. 

It’s hot, blinding - _ suffocating _. Peter wants to let go, wants everything to stop. The pressure, the anxiety, the feeling of never being enough, of being alone -- 

Peter felt so alone. 

He hears someone crying, only realizing a few moments later that it’s him - his sobs making his shoulders shake as looks over the roof’s edge. 

The voice is quiet again, slow and methodical. 

_ Let go. _

He wants to, Peter wants to let go - but there’s something holding him back, something telling him that this isn’t the answer - that he wants to be free from his own anxiety and pain but doesn’t want to do _ this _…

He hears it, a soft landing behind him - the whirring and whine that gives him pause. He would know that sound anywhere. 

“Peter?”

And he knows that voice. 

Peter turns, eyes blearily looking back to see Tony - eyes wide and panicked, hand shakily extended.

“Peter, talk to me kid. What’s going on?” 

Peter lets out a sob, shoulders shaking as Tony takes a tentative step toward him.

“Peter, I’m gonna take another step towards you okay? Is that alright?” Peter says nothing, watching as Tony seems to do some kind of mental calculation - Peter sensing that he was trying to guess how quickly he’d be able to reach him.

It must not be enough, not enough that Tony would be able to reach him if Peter takes a step forward- _ let go _ \- the distance between them feeling like a gulf as Tony’s eyes meet Peter’s once again.

He’d missed Tony, even knowing that Tony never really left. The recovery of snapping his fingers had taken months, so much so that he couldn’t help with Europe - couldn’t even help him pick an apartment for school.

But now, almost three years later - Tony was there, maybe not as much as he used to be in high school - but Peter thought it had been enough. 

Peter wasn’t alone. He had May, MJ, Ned and Tony… countless friends and acquaintances from school.

But the feeling like he was going to burst if something didn’t change - _ let go _ \- was so unbearable, that Peter almost considered just letting himself fall.

It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

_He _would never be enough. 

Tony must register some change in Peter’s demeanor, his hand raising as he takes another step closer.

“Peter, listen to me. Whatever’s going on, whatever--whatever’s happening, we can figure it out alright?” 

Peter lets out another sob, shaking his head as he turns to face him. He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t - _ let go _ \- but he does want it to _ stop _, wants everything to just… pause.

Tony must take this as a denial, his voice getting shakier. “Peter, I promise you. I promise you, we’ll figure it out okay? We’ll figure it out just… just walk towards me, Pete. Can you do that? Come--come down from the ledge, towards me?” 

Peter thinks he wants to do that, go towards Tony - go back in time, before he was a college junior struggling with classes, before he pushed away his girlfriend and best friend, before the Blip, before Tony almost died - before everything. 

But he can’t - _ let go _ \- he can’t go back in time, can’t change anything. 

The fire and brightness from the moon is now running through his veins, Peter’s whole body seemingly vibrating from it. It was hot and ice all at the same time, Peter just wanted it to end, wanted it to stop. 

“Peter--”

But Peter doesn’t hear anything else, feeling weightless and numb - letting his eyes roll back in the head. 

He can’t bring himself to feel anything - other than the weightless feeling overtaking him - letting go - tipping over the edge, hearing Tony’s scream as he falls. 

* * *

Peter’s head feels like there’s a weight strapped to it, groaning as he tries to move it.

“You’re alright, kid. You’re safe, you’re--you’re okay.” 

The voice is soft, broken - Peter’s mind swimming, trying to make sense of it. He opens his eyes, the act of it both painful and heavy - his vision out of focus until he sees Tony.

Tony’s eyes are red, still glistening with tears as he brings a hand to Peter’s face. 

Peter blinks, eyebrows furrowing as he swallows, his throat feeling incredibly dry.

“What happened?” He croaks out, seeing the panic then confusion in Tony’s eyes.

“Well kid, you shaved off a couple years off my life.” Tony jokes but Peter just stares, his memories feeling hazy. 

He remembered going to the party with Marcus, drinking some cheap alcohol. He remembered someone passing him a drink, saying he needed a pick me up - Peter downing it without a second glance, thinking that maybe it would chase away the taste of whatever he had drank before. 

But the night gets fuzzy after that, a mix of memories and feelings that Peter - awake, sober and seeing the fear in Tony’s eyes - make him wonder what actually happened. 

“Do you really--you don’t remember?” Tony asks, Peter seeing how he seemed to debate how much he should tell - if Peter was telling the truth. 

He doesn’t, he doesn’t remember _ everything _. But the more Tony looks at him, the more Peter starts to trust his memory - the feelings that had lain dormant for so long that had seemingly come up to the surface. 

“I… drank something, I think.” Tony exhales, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

“Yeah, yeah you did. Cho found something, we still don’t know what it was. With anyone else, probably would’ve helped them have a good time but with your enhancements…” Tony trails off, eyes going elsewhere - seemingly lost in a memory before he looks back to Peter. 

“You gotta be more careful, Pete.” 

Peter nods, but it feels wrong - the tension in Tony’s shoulders starting to fade as if the problem was solved, as if it was all a misunderstanding. 

And it was, his memory starting to come back to him. He remembers the feelings most of all, a glimpse of a rooftop and of the desire to look over the edge, to _ let go _ \-- 

His heartbeat spikes, Tony’s eyebrows raising in alarm. “Kid?”

“I…” Peter swallows, closing his eyes. “I think… I think I need some help.” 

It’s like Peter’s sucker-punched him, a crushing and devastating look in Tony’s eyes as he seems to realize - and Peter starts to admit, that even if the drink that he’d had been what pushed him towards the roof that night, it wasn’t the origin of his feelings - wasn’t the reason why he’d been so desperate to forget - to let go, let _ loose _ \- in the first place.

Tony recovers after a beat, nodding his head as if to affirm himself just as much as Peter. He leans in, his hand putting more pressure to Peter’s face.

“Okay kid. We’ll… we’ll figure it out okay?”

Peter knows that Tony means it, can feel the sincerity just by looking into his eyes.

But Peter also knows that what he’s been feeling - what he hadn’t wanted to admit and likely wouldn’t have, had it not been for that drink - wasn’t something that could be resolved overnight, something to fix in one conversation.

He needed to sit down with May, tell her how he’d felt. Talk to Michelle and open up to her, talk to Ned.

Talk to Tony.

For the first time in months, in years - Peter let himself let go.

But he knew now - without any doubt - that he wasn’t alone. 

  



End file.
